Rosmarinus Officinalis
by cookiethiefmimii
Summary: Nature/Nurture? Is anyone born evil? Does the child of the most feared witch and wizard stand a chance? Rated T as not sure what future chapters will be like!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I haven't read 'Harry Potter and the Cursed Child' but I am working along the same vague lines with this story. I'm not sure if this is something I'll continue; I thought I'd upload the first chapter and see what kind of a response it gets before I decide whether to write a full fanfic, though I have got three chapters written if more is wanted. Let me know what you think!

Mrs Banks watched the young girl sat alone in her classroom who was drawing, _always drawing_.

'Are you okay, Rosemary?'

'Yes thank you!' The little girl smiled and turned back to her work.

'I'm sure your Auntie will be here soon, she phoned, said the traffic was bad, it was holding her up.'

'I know. Thank you.' She smiled again.

Mrs Banks for forty seven years old and had been teaching for longer than she cared to remember. She'd worked in many schools before she had settled here, Wiltshire Mead, a prestigious primary school but had never met a child quite like Rosemary before. She was five but to hear her speak you'd think she was much older, which is exactly what Mrs Banks was worrying about and one of the many reasons she had asked for a meeting with Rosemary's auntie, her legal guardian, after school today. She had a sneaking suspicion that this meeting was the reason behind Mrs Malfoy's late arrival, perhaps hoping that the teacher would give up and go home, leaving Rosemary in the care of the office as was the school custom, until she arrived. Mrs Banks was determined to catch her however so had stayed behind after school.

She looked at Rosemary again and couldn't repress the inexplicable feeling of hairs standing up on the back of her neck.

' _She's like an adult in a child's body…'_

This thought was followed by the sound of high heeled shoes clicking down the hallway, before Narcissa Malfoy entered the classroom, looking moderately irritated to see Mrs Banks thus confirming her theory. She greeted her niece warmly.

'Hello Rosie! I'm sorry I'm late, darling!'

'That's okay. Mrs Banks said the traffic was slow.' She hugged her and smiled again, she had such a charming smile.

'It was, cars everywhere, but I don't like to keep you waiting. Are you ready to go?'

'Yes.' Just as Rosemary picked up her book bag Mrs Banks stood,

'Could I see for a moment, Mrs Malfoy?'

Before Narcissa had a chance to respond Rosemary said,

'I'll wait in the playground…' and headed for the door. Narcissa turned with a frown.

'Now Mrs Banks, it's almost four o'clock, I need to take Rosie home, she has dance class at six thirty, she hasn't eaten yet an-'

'This won't take a moment.' Mrs Banks said firmly, she gestured to the chairs in front of her, 'care to sit down?'

Narcissa did so, reluctantly.

'Now, Mrs Malfoy, I wanted to have a brief conversation with you about some…concerns I have about Rosemary-'

'Rosie.' She said sternly, 'we call her Rosie.'

'About Rosie.' She corrected herself, unperturbed, 'I understand that Rosie has been living with you since she lost her parents-'

'She's lived with us all her life. My sister, Rosie's mother, lived with us. Rosie's never known any different.'

'I see. That is where I am going with this, I'm aware that Rosie lost her mother and father at a young age and that at Rosie's age it's perfectly natural for her to be curious about her parents but I wanted to speak with you about the kinds of things Rosie's been saying at school, we've had all kinds of comments from talk of coffins to funerals…all sorts. This wouldn't ordinarily be a problem however Rosie seems to have a slightly…' she paused to think of the best way to phrase the next part of her account 'unusual knowledge of death. As I say, it would not be a problem were it not for the fact that other parents have complained that their children have gone home with what they consider to be inappropriate information, I mean…'

Narcissa shifted uncomfortably in her chair and looked out the window, watching Rosie as she played hopscotch outside.

'I mean just today Rosie told us at carpet time that when you die they-' she paused to look at a piece of paper in front of her and quoted "bury you deep in a hole, your hair grows and your skin dissolves into the ground"

She looked up and Narcissa took a deep breath before saying 'If Rosie asks us a question, we give her an honest answer.'

'Mrs Malfoy, I don't mean to be rude but I really don't think that level of detail is appropriate for a five year old.'

'Rosie is very mature for her age.'

'Yes she is, I agree an-'

'I don't see that as problem. Neither does anyone else involved in Rosie's life.'

'It's not her level of maturity that concerns me-'

'Now if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare Rosie for dance class.' She stood and took her handbag from the floor; Mrs Banks sat back at her desk, defeated. 'We'll see you on Monday, Mrs Banks!'


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: Chapter 2. Hope you enjoy

Also if creepy kids being creepy creeps you out, I don't advise reading before bed!

Rosie was already in bed when Narcissa went to tuck her in later that evening. She drew the curtains and sat on the end of Rosie's bed, looking at her hard and trying to figure out for the millionth time what went through the little girl's head. She was so absorbed in her thoughts she didn't notice Rosie look up and stare back at her until she cleared her throat.

'Are you okay, Auntie Cissy?' She asked, placing a small cold hand on top of Narcissa's, the contact made her jump.

'I'm fine, princess. Are you okay? I thought you danced really well this evening!'

'Thank you. I could have done my turns better though.'

'Well keep practising, you're a beautiful dancer.' She leant forward and kissed Rosie's head and was rewarded with that charming smile. 'The stars are bright tonight, Rosie, look!' she pointed to the window, and Rosie slipped out of bed and walked closer.

'Wow! Look a shooting star!'

'So there is, you can make a wish.'

Rosie laughed.

'No!'

'No? You don't want to?'

'No, that's not what a shooting star means!'

'What does it mean then?' She was always mildly amused by Rosie's habit of correcting almost every adult she came into contact with.

'It means that it's an angel who's thrown their cigarette away before God could catch them smoking!'

Narcissa's smile faded and for a moment it felt as though she'd been punched in the stomach, Rosie's voice bought her back,

'That's what my mummy used to say!'

Narcissa swallowed hard,

'You're right, it was.' She heard her own voice say, 'goodnight, Rosie'.

'Goodnight!' and with that she rolled over and turned off her night light.

Narcissa backed out of the room and headed to the kitchen where she poured herself a large glass of wine and sat staring at the phone. She debated calling Lucious, but he was at work and wouldn't want to be interrupted. She knew what he'd say anyway; that she had an _overactive imagination_ and that _Rosie had a very good memory_ or _she could have heard that anywhere_.

 _But where?_

Surely children didn't retain memories from as early as 15 months, did they? She thought back to when Draco was younger, how good was his memory? Not a patch on Rosie's that was certain. She thought hard on this fact as she reached for the wine bottle again and by the time she had drained her fourth glass, was ready for bed.

It wasn't until she attempted to tackle the stairs however that she realised she had probably drunk far too much, far too quickly. The staircase seemed to lean slightly in a way it never usually did and Narcissa's head was spinning.

The euphoria of alcohol was wearing off and halfway up the stairs she broke down and cried, cried for her sister who hadn't seen sense, cried for all her family had lost and most of all cried for the little girl who would grow up without her parents.

'Need any help Auntie Cissy?'

Rosie's small voice caused Narcissa to gasp involuntarily and she looked immediately to the top of the stairs, the direction of Rosie's bedroom. Upon finding the space empty she slowly turned her head to see Rosie standing at the foot of the staircase.

 _How long have you been there?!_

She wondered how Rosie had managed to slip out of her room unnoticed. She'd have had to have walked past Narcissa wouldn't she?

 _I've not had that much to drink!_ She blinked hard.

Upon finding Rosie now on the step in front of her, she felt an unusual sensation wash over her, goosebumps appeared on her arms.

'How did you…' she began.

'Why are you crying?' Rosie looked concerned.

'I wasn't crying, I just…' Rosie clearly wasn't fooled. 'I'm just a bit sad, that's all. I'm alright.'

'Is it because you miss mummy?'

 _How do you know that?_

'Yes, yes it is. It's okay to miss people though, when they're not here.' She craned her neck to look at the clock on the upstairs landing, before turning back to Rosie, who was now looking into her lap. 'Come on, let's get you back to bed, it's late-' she stopped, Rosie's shoulders were shaking and it took a few seconds for Narcissa to realise that she too was crying.

'Oh darling! It's not your fault, it's-'

But then Rosie looked up with an expression of pure grief on her face and a disturbingly glazed, foggy look in her eyes. Was it Narcissa's imagination or were her eyes darker than normal? She said in a loud, clear voice that seemed to fill the small space they sat in,

'Don't cry Cissy, I never meant to make you sad!'

Before Narcissa could properly process what she had just heard, Rosie had blinked, her eyes had cleared and she said quietly,

'Can I have a bedtime story?'


End file.
